


these damn clothes

by SerenadeStrong (ninja_orange)



Series: summer porn ficlets [1]
Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 22:38:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11587614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninja_orange/pseuds/SerenadeStrong
Summary: Ficlet for summer pornathon, prompt "clothes"





	these damn clothes

Elizabeth lay still on top of her coverlet, wishing her nightgown weren't of quite such fine fabric as Darcy's eyes raked over her. The cotton was nearly transparent in good light; even in the candlelit bedroom at Pemberley she feared he could see more than just the outline of her curves through the fabric.

Darcy cleared his throat nervously; Elizabeth felt obliged to fill the silence. 

"Is everything to your liking?" she asked. There was lace on the collar and cuffs of the nightgown and she'd embroidered small rosettes along the hem. 

"You look very well," he replied somewhat stiffly. He was dressed in a long cream nightshirt and nothing else. She had very carefully kept her eyes on his face as he'd entered her new bedroom and approached her bed. 

Darcy bit his lip and clenched his hands as if trying not to fidget. In this new situation of a marriage bed they were suddenly as awkward as if they had only just met. Elizabeth reached out impulsively and Darcy caught her hand, his hold warm and familiar, her fingers cradled against his palm as if he were going to lead her out in a dance. He smiled then, and she smiled back, relieved and almost giggling as the tension ebbed away. They were both so new to this, but she loved him and he loved her, and surely they could muddle through together. 

"Come closer, my darling," she said, tugging his hand. He let her pull him until he had to sit next to her or fall over entirely, then arranged himself so they were quite snug, one of his arms behind her holding her firmly against him. 

Darcy held her gaze as with his other hand he drew up her nightgown until it was just brushing her knee. He looked as nervous as she felt, his eyes wide and darting from her eyes to her lips and down to the bare skin of her legs. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath and she saw him glance at her barely veiled breasts as they brushed against her nightgown. She wanted him to touch her, wanted to touch him, but was unsure of what to do or how to do it. A kiss, at least, was something she knew. She leaned closer, feeling the fabric between them shift, and closed her eyes as his lips met hers.

She felt it all the way down to her toes and back. The heat coiling within her flared brighter, urging her to open her mouth and press closer. Darcy's hand on her knee clenched, twisting the fabric and pulling it tight. She grabbed at his shoulder, pulling herself into him, he shifted the arm around her back and somehow she was in his lap, nightgown around her thighs and the hair on his legs rough against her skin where his shirt had ridden up. With a shock she realized she could feel his hardness against her, and to her own surprise she arched against him, reveling in the noise he made.

They kissed with abandon, hands running over each others bodies, pulling at laces and tugging at hems. Darcy's nightshirt seemed to be covering entirely too much skin and though his own hands were around her waist now, slipped under her nightgown, she wished she could press her body against his without anything between them. Finally she broke for air, hair disarrayed and nightgown askew, and pulled off his shirt, only to get it caught around his elbows, half over his head. 

"These- these _damned clothes_!" she swore with feeling, frustrated beyond reckoning, then laughed at both her own rudeness and the absurd picture they made together, her in such dishabille and Darcy with his arms still tangled in his shirtsleeves.

He laughed with her, managing to take the offending garment off as she distracted him with an exploratory touch to his chest.

"I never thought my nightshirt would inspire such passion," he told her.

She blushed. "It was in the way," she explained. That he was now naked in her bed was nearly too much to think about. 

He smiled at her, excitement dancing in his eyes. "Then I must inform you that your nightgown is very much in _my_ way, and I beg your leave to remove it."

"You may, Sir," she said politely, and laughed again in delight as he quickly pulled it off and tumbled her down to the bed.


End file.
